


P is for Pickle

by zebraljb



Series: The Alphabet Cycle [16]
Category: Boondock Saints RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-01
Updated: 2012-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 23:39:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Norman walks in to the deli where Sean works, and his life is never the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	P is for Pickle

**Author's Note:**

> A series of shorts based on one-word prompts.

P IS FOR PICKLE  
www.dictionary.com definition: An edible product, such as a cucumber, that has been preserved and flavored in a solution of brine or vinegar.

 

“You’re late, Flanery.”

Sean sighed as he reached for his timecard. “Yeah, Bill, I know.”

“That’s the second time this week. One more and I get to write you up,” the manager said almost gleefully.

Sean turned to look at him. The older man was almost a foot shorter than Sean, with a receding hairline and an expanding waistline. Sean sighed again, smiling politely. “Well, I hate to take that joyous moment from you, Bill, but I’m gonna do my best to be in on time every other day this week.” He whipped the apron over his head, wrapping the strings around his slender waist twice to shorten their length.

“Oh, and Toby called off sick again,” Bill called as Sean headed through the kitchen.

“Called off drunk, you mean,” Sean growled to himself. He turned up the music in the dining room and got to work.

Working full-time in a deli at age twenty-five was not what Sean had planned on when he graduated high school, hopped on a bus, and left Texas for good. He wasn’t sure where he would go or what he would do, but he knew he was destined for bigger and better things. Small town Texas had no room for advancement, for adventure…or for young men who realized quite early on that they were interested in OTHER young men.

Now, seven years later, here he was, assistant manager at a tiny New York deli. This was one thing he had NEVER expected. He didn’t MIND his work. He actually enjoyed the patrons, enjoyed dealing with the public. It was his asshole of a manager that he couldn’t stand. Bill didn’t like the fact that Sean was young, pretty, and that both the male and female customers loved him. Bill didn’t like the fact that the deli’s owner also loved Sean, and made him an assistant manager in months, instead of the years it took Bill to work his way up the company ladder. Sean didn’t want to BE Bill, though, didn’t want this deli to end up being his entire life. So he was taking marketing courses at NYU and working at the deli as much as he could to save money.

Sean finished up all of the prep work, then picked up the giant blackboard that they wrote their specials on. He dug out the chalk, thought for a bit, and went to work. He whistled to himself as he wrote everything out, then doodled a bit around the edges. “Hey, Sean,” someone said. Sean turned around and smiled at Jenn, his coworker. 

“Hey, girl.” He stuck out his tongue a bit as he drew a flower in the corner of the board.

“Your talent is wasted here,” she teased. He stuck that tongue out at her and continued to draw.

“Flanery, this isn’t MOMA. Just get the damn specials on there and let’s get moving,” Bill griped as he walked out to unlock the door.

“You know, you’re an assistant manager. You don’t have to take his shit,” Jenn murmured when Bill was out of earshot.

“Yeah, well, he’s not worth my energy,” Sean said. He set the board on its easel and washed his hands. 

 

And Sean ended up needing all his energy that day. The deli was busy over lunch, and with the loss of one employee, he had to work twice as hard. But his smile never faltered, he joked and laughed with the regulars, and never seemed to break a sweat.

“Please tell me what your secret is,” Jenn begged as she brushed by him at the register. “You make this look so damn easy.”

“That’s because it IS,” Sean murmured. “You have a good day,” he said to the woman in front of him. 

“You, too, Sean. Bye, now,” the woman said, picking up her bag of sandwiches and leaving.

“I get a break in five,” Sean yelled over his shoulder to Bill, who was standing around and doing pretty much nothing.

“Flanery…”

“I get a break in FIVE,” Sean repeated. “My bladder doesn’t understand that we’re busy.” He turned back around. “Can I help…you?”

The blue eyes before him crinkled in amusement. “If your bladder needs you to take five, I can wait.”

“No, I, uh, it’s fine. What can I get for you?” Sean wished he could climb into the cash register. Standing before him was a gorgeous specimen of man, about his height, with brown hair that fell over his beautiful blue eyes. He wore a grey zippered jacket and a pair of paint-splattered blue jeans. He bit at a fingernail as he glanced at the menu board, and Sean’s eyes were fixed upon the red lips and white teeth.

“Um, what’s good?”

“Huh?” Sean whispered.

The man smiled at him, and Sean bit back a whimper. “I said, what’s good. For lunch.”

“Um, well…” Sean shook himself out of it. “I know a lot of people like the corned beef…or maybe turkey. Do you like meat? I mean…” Sean wished someone would punch him in the head. “I mean, if you’re a vegetarian, we have a veggie sandwich, or maybe tuna…”

“What do you like?” The man’s blue eyes flicked down to Sean’s nametag. “Sean. What do you recommend, Sean?”

“Uh, I like the chicken salad,” Sean said, feeling brain cells drain away the longer he stared at this beautiful young man.

“Then chicken salad it is. On…”

“Rye?”

“Rye,” the man agreed. “No onions.”

“Sure thing. Something to drink?”

“Nah, I got beer at the loft, thanks.”

Sean managed to ring the man’s order up and take his money. Their fingers brushed as the bills were handed over, and Sean actually shivered. “Just, uh, go to the end of the counter there and Jenn will have that for you in a second,” Sean said. He wished he had an excuse to talk to the man longer, but he was deathly afraid of making himself look like an even bigger idiot. “Have a nice day.”

“I will. You too, Sean.”

The man moved out of the way and Sean forced himself to wait on the next customer, stealing only a glance or two more.

After that, Sean’s day was pretty boring. Whenever he had a minute, he glanced out the window at the people on the sidewalk, wondering if that pretty boy would walk by. Did he live in the neighborhood? Was he new to the area? Was he interesting in stupid guys who worked in a deli and smelled like pickles and onions?

Sean sighed as he washed his hands one last time, tugging at his apron and tossing it into the laundry bin. “You okay, Sean?” Jenn asked.

“No,” Sean said. “I’m an idiot.”

“I could have told you that,” Bill yelled from the back.

Jenn and Sean both glared in his direction. “I just…let myself daydream too much, sometimes,” Sean told her. “Wishing for things that will never be.”

“You mean like Bill accidentally getting his head caught in the meat slicer?” Jenn said quietly, and Sean finally laughed.

“Yeah, something like that.” He gave her a hug. Jenn almost made him wish he was interested in women. She was cute and fun, and they would have been great together. “You in tomorrow?”

“You bet,” she said. “I’ll see you then.”

 

Sean told himself he wasn’t going to look for the Pretty Boy, as he had started calling the man in his mind. The Pretty Boy probably had better things to do than stop in to a deli for lunch where the staff were obviously idiots. The Pretty boy also had never stopped in before, or Sean would have noticed him. Therefore it was probably a once in a lifetime…

“Sean, right?”

Sean stared, forced his mouth to close and did his best to smile. “Uh, yeah, hi.” He stood up a bit straighter, wiping his hands on his apron. It was early, barely eleven o’clock. The deli wasn’t too busy yet, and he had been straightening things up behind the counter. “How are you today?” Pretty Boy looked just as pretty this time, in a faded green tee and yet another pair of paint-splattered jeans.

“Not bad. What can you suggest for me today?”

“Uh, depends what you’re feeling.”

“I’m feeling meat today,” Pretty Boy said, and Sean heard a snicker. Pretty Boy turned around and elbowed someone sharply. “Shut up, James. Sean understands what I mean.” He turned back to Sean. “Don’t you?”

“Sure,” Sean said, making sure his eyes didn’t narrow too much as he looked at this James, who was standing pretty close to Pretty Boy’s back. “Um, are you thinking turkey? Ham?”

“How about beef, Norman?” James snickered again, poking Pretty Boy in the back.

“Norman,” Sean whispered to himself. Thankfully Pretty…Norman was elbowing his friend again and didn’t hear. 

“Actually, roast beef sounds great,” Norman said, turning to Sean once more. “With lettuce and mayo, tomato, provolone, on rye toast?”

“Sure, we can do that.” Sean took down the order. “And for your, uh…”

“Well, he WAS my friend, when we walked in here, but I’m not too sure about that now,” Norman said, rolling his eyes.

“Turkey and swiss on wheat bread, with mustard. NO tomato. Got that?” James said, bumping Norman out of his way.

“He’s not fucking deaf, James, God,” Norman muttered. He smiled at Sean and shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Not a problem,” Sean said primly, ringing up the order. If Norman wanted to be friends with a bastard, it wasn’t Sean’s business.

“You have a good day, Sean,” Norman said, smiling over his shoulder as he followed James down the counter.

“Yeah,” Sean said, sighing as he watched them walk away. 

Jenn came over and put her chin on his shoulder, standing on tiptoe to do so. “You know, he’s checking you out.”

“Who?” Sean busied himself with the money in the drawer.

“That cute artist guy.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Whatever.” She pinched his backside, causing him to yelp. James and Norman both turned to look at him, and Sean blushed.

The next day, Sean had off. He went to his morning and afternoon classes, and spent most of the time afterwards at a table in the student center, trying to study. He forced all thoughts of the elusive Norman out of his mind, and concentrated on his work. If he was ever going to get out of that deli for good, he had to do well in his classes.

The next day, Norman didn’t show, and Sean was relieved. It was almost as if he had dreamt him, and it was really a dream that Sean did not want to wake up from. What if Norman was involved with James, or, God forbid, was straight? Sean didn’t allow himself to fantasize much, and now he knew why. Apparently his imagination was more creative than he’d thought.

Fridays were usually slow, for which he was thankful. He had a lot of studying to do for his night class that evening, and it was a class that he wasn’t doing very well in. He murmured to himself as he got things prepared, stopping every now and then to refer to his textbook, which was propped up against the window of the cheese case. He saw someone out of the corner of his eye, as he was emptying a relish container and thinking about European economics. “Be right with you,” he said. He finished his work, washed his hands, and turned around with a friendly smile. The smile turned bright and sincere when he saw who it was. “Hi there.”

“Hey.” Norman smiled shyly. “How are you?”

“Good…a little stressed…gotta test,” Sean said, desperately trying to keep an actual conversation going. 

“Test?”

“I take classes at NYU. Marketing,” Sean offered. “Boring, huh?”

“No. Someone’s gotta make the stuff look good enough to buy,” Norman said. He held up his hands, which were dotted with sea green paint. “I guess you can tell what I do.”

“So, um, pictures or walls?” Sean asked. “I mean, what do you paint?”

“Both, actually. I’m an artist as a career, at least I tell myself that…but to pay the rent, I work as a painter. Like offices and stuff.”

“Right,” Sean said, nodding. 

“I’m Norman, by the way,” Norman said, holding out his hand.

Sean took it, proud that he could shake it without melting into a puddle behind the counter. “Sean, but I guess you knew that,” he said with a silly grin. “James…you work with him?”

“Yeah.” Norman rolled his eyes. “His dad owns the company I work for. We’ve been friends for about three years, but I just moved into the neighborhood here. About three blocks down.” Norman waved vaguely. “Do you live around here?”

“About eight blocks the other way,” Sean said, trying to keep his cool. They were practically NEIGHBORS. “That’s a nice neighborhood, where you’re at.”

“Yeah. I was lucky to get it, living alone and all.” Norman’s eyes grew sad briefly. “I was, uh, living with someone, but it didn’t work out. I got this place at a real steal.”

“That’s good…about the bargain, I mean,” Sean stammered.

They looked at each other for a long moment. “Well…I should let you get back to work,” Norman said finally.

No! Sean thought, but said, “Can I get you something to eat?”

“No, not really hungry. Maybe just a Coke?”

Sean filled a large cup with Coke and ice. “Here you go. On the house.”

“Thanks,” Norman said. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, see ya,” Sean said wistfully, watching Norman leave the deli. He picked up his textbook and leaned back against the counter, flipping through a few pages.

“Sean.”

Sean almost dropped his book, whirling around at the voice practically in his ear. “Norman. Hey.”

“Listen…” Norman bit at a nail for a second. “If you say no, that’s fine, you’re not interested or whatever, but just don’t punch my lights out. Would…would you like to go out sometime? Like for pizza or something?”

Sean gaped at him, unable to form a coherent thought. “What?”

“Uh, yeah.” Norman wiped at his forehead. “Fuck this is hard. Um, would you like to…”

“You mean with you? Like…” Sean lowered his voice a bit, though the place was almost empty. “Like a date?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t…I’ve been wanting to ask you all week, and then I was nervous, and I think I’m gonna be sick,” Norman babbled.

Sean’s face lit up. “Oh, that sounds awesome! Not you getting sick,” he said hurriedly, at the odd look Norman gave him. “I mean, a date. I’d love to. Totally love to.”

Norman’s face regained some of its color. “Really?”

“Yes. I would really like that.”

“How about tonight?”

“Oh.” Sean’s face fell. “I have a class tonight at five. We could do something later, though…like maybe around eight?”

“Sounds good,” Norman said. He seemed to be unable to stop smiling.

Sean picked up his tablet and wrote out his address and phone number. “See you around eight, then?”

“Definitely.” Norman headed for the door, smiling at Sean over his shoulder. “See you at eight.”

“Yes,” Sean said. He watched Norman leave, then spun back around on one heel, clutching his textbook in delight.

END - P


End file.
